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THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 


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THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

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THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA.  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


THE 
CYCLE  OF  SPRING 


BT 

SIR  RABINDRANATH  TAGORE 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1917 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1917 
By  the  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  February,  1917. 


LA 
UJ 


I   DEDICATE   THIS   BOOK 

TO   MY   BOYS   OF   THE   SHANTINIK.ETAN 

WHO    HAVE    FREED 

THE    FOUNTAIN    OF    YOUTH 

HIDDEN    IN    THE    HEART    OF   THIS    OLD    POET 

AND   TO   DINENDRANATH 

WHO  la 

THE   GUIDE   OF   THESE   BOYS   IN   THEIR   FESTIVALS 

AND   TREASURE   HOUSE   OF   ALL   MY    BONGS 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 


The  greater  part  of  the  introductory  por- 
tion of  this  drama  was  translated  from  the 
original  Bengali  by  Mr.  C.  F.  Andrews  and 
Prof.  Nishikanta  Sen  and  revised  by  the 
author. 


INTRODUCTION 

Characters  of  the  Prelude 

King,  Vizier,  General,  (Buoy 
Varma) 

Chinese  Ambassador,  Pundit,  (Sruti- 
bhushan) 

Poet,  (Kabi-shekhar)  Guards,  Cour- 
tiers, Herald 

The  stage  is  on  two  levels:  the  higher,  at 
the  hack,  for  the  Song-preludes  alone, 
concealed  by  a  purple  curtain;  the 
lower  only  being  discovered  when  the 
drop  goes  up.  Diagonally  across  the 
extreme  left  of  the  lower  stage,  is  ar- 
ranged the  king's  court,  with  various 
platforms,  for  the  various  dignitaries 
ascending  to  the  canopied  throne.  The 
body  of  the  stage  is  left  free  for  the 
^Play"  when  that  develops. 
9 


10     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

[Enter  some  Courtiers.] 

[The  names  of  the  speakers  are  not 
given  in  the  margin,  as  they  can 
easily  be  guessed.] 

Hush!    Hush! 

What  is  the  matter? 

The  King  is  in  great  distress. 

How  dreadful! 

Who  is  that  over  there,  playing  on 
his  flute  .^^ 

Why?    What's  the  matter? 

The  King  is  greatly  disturbed. 

How  dreadful ! 

What  are  those  wild  children  doing, 
making  so  much  noise? 

They  are  the  Mandal  family. 

Then  tell  the  Mandal  family  to  keep 
their  children  quiet. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     11 

Where  can  that  Vizier  have  gone 
to? 

Here  I  am.     What's  the  matter? 

Haven't  you  heard  the  news? 

No,  what? 

The  King  is  greatly  troubled  in  his 
mind. 

Well,  I've  got  some  very  important 
news  about  the  frontier  war. 

War  we  may  have,  but  not  the 
news. 

Then  the  Chinese  Ambassador  is 
waiting  to  see  His  Majesty. 

Let  him  wait.  Anyhow  he  can't  see 
the  King. 

Can't  see  the  King? — Ah,  here  is  the 
King  at  last.  Look  at  him  coming  this 
way,  with  a  mirror  in  his  hand.  "Long 
live  the  King.    Long  live  the  King." 


n     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

If  it  please  Your  Majesty,  it  is  time 
to  go  to  the  Court. 

Time  to  go?     Yes,  time  to  go,  but 
not  to  the  Court. 

What  does  Your  Majesty  mean? 

Haven't  you  heard?     The  bell  has 
just  been  rung  to  dismiss  the  Court. 

When?     What   bell?      We   haven't 
heard  any  bell. 

How  could  you  hear?     They  have 
rung  it  in  my  ears  alone. 

Oh,  Sire.    No  one  can  have  had  the 
impertinence  to  do  that. 

Vizier!    They  are  ringing  it  now. 

Pardon  me.  Sire,  if  I  am  very  stupid; 
but  I  cannot  understand. 

Look  at  this.  Vizier,  look  at  this. 

Your  Majesty's  hair — 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     13 

Can't  you  see  there's  a  bell-ringer 
there? 

Oh,  Your  Majesty.  Are  you  playing 
a  joke? 

The  joke  is  not  mine,  but  His,  who 
has  got  the  whole  world  by  the  ear,  and 
is  having  His  jest.  Last  night,  when 
the  Queen  was  putting  a  garland  of 
jasmines  round  my  neck,  she  cried  out 
with  alarm, — "King,  what  is  this? 
Here  are  two  grey  hairs  behind  your 
ear. 

Oh,  please,  Sire,  don't  worry  so  much 
about  a  little  thing  like  that.  Why! 
The  royal  physician — 

Vizier!  The  founder  of  our  dynasty 
had  his  royal  physician,  too.  But  what 
could  he  do?  Death  has  left  his  card  of 
invitation  behind  my  ear.  The  Queen 
wanted,  then  and  there,  to  pluck  out 
the  grey  hairs.  But  I  said, — Queen, 
what's   the   use?     You    may    remove 


14     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Death's  invitation,  but  can  you  remove 
Death,  the  Inviter? — So,  for  the  pres- 
ent,— 

Yes,  Sire,  for  the  present,  let  us  at- 
tend to  business. 

Business,  Vizier!  I  have  no  time  for 
business.  Send  for  the  Pundit.  Send 
for  Sruti-bhushan. 

But,  Sire,  the  General, — 

The  General? — No,  no,  not  the  Gen- 
eral.   Send  for  the  Pundit. 

But,  the  news  from  the  frontier — 

Vizier,  the  news  has  come  to  me 
from  the  last  great  frontier  of  all, 
the  frontier  of  Death.  Send  for  the 
Pundit. 

But  if  Your  Majesty  will  give  me  one 
moment,  the  Ambassador  from  the 
great  Emperor  of  China — 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     15 

Vizier,  a  greater  Emperor  has  sent 
his  embassy  to  me.    Call  Sruti-bhushan. 

Very  well.  Sire.  But  your  father-in- 
law, — 

It  is  not  my  father-in-law  whom  I 
want  now.    Send  for  the  Pundit. 

But,  if  it  please  you  to  hear  me  this 
once.  The  poet,  Kabi-shekar,  is  wait- 
ing with  his  new  book  called  the  "Gar- 
den of  Poesy." 

Let  your  poet  disport  himself,  jump- 
ing about  on  the  topmost  branches  of 
his  Garden  of  Poesy,  but  send  for  the 
Pundit. 

Very  well,  Sire.  I  will  send  for  him 
at  once. 

Tell  him  to  bring  his  book  of  devo- 
tions with  him,  called  the  "  Ocean  of 
Renunciation." 

Yes,  Sire. 


16     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

But,  Vizier.  Who  are  those  outside 
making  all  that  noise?  Go  out  and  stop 
them  at  once.    I  must  have  peace. 

If  it  please  Your  Majesty,  there  is  a 
famine  in  Nagapatam  and  the  head- 
men of  the  villages  are  praying  to  be 
allowed  to  see  your  face. 

My  time  is  short,  Vizier.  I  must 
have  peace. 

They  say  their  time  is  shorter.  They 
are  at  death's  door.  They  too  want 
peace, — peace  from  the  burning  of 
hunger. 

Vizier!  The  burning  of  hunger  is 
quenched  at  last  on  the  funeral  pyre. 

Then  these  wretched  people, — 

Wretched ! — Listen  to  the  advice  of  a 
wretched  King  to  his  wretched  sub- 
jects. It  is  futile  to  be  impatient,  and 
try  to  break  through  the  net  of  the  in- 
exorable Fisherman.     Sooner  or  later, 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     17 

Death   the   Fisherman    will   have   his 
haul. 

Well  then? 

Let  me  have  the  Pundit,  and  his  book 
of  Renunciation. 

And  in  this  scarcity, — 

Vizier!  The  real  scarcity  is  of  time, 
and  not  of  food.  We  are  all  suffering 
from  starvation  of  time.  None  of  us 
has  enough  of  it, — neither  the  King, 
nor  his  people. 

Then, — 

Then  know,  that  our  petitions  for 
more  time  will  all  go  to  the  last  fire  of 
doom.  So  why  strain  our  voice  in 
prayer? — ^Ah,  here  is  Sruti-bhushan  at 
last.    My  reverence  to  you. 

Pundit,  do  tell  the  King  that  the 
Goddess  of  Fortune  deserts  him  who 
gives  way  to  melancholy. 


18     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Sruti-bhushan,  what  is  my  Vizier 
whispering  to  you? 

He  tells  me,  King,  to  instruct  you 
in  the  ways  of  fortune. 

What  instruction  can  you  give? 

There  is  a  verse  in  my  book  of  devo- 
tions which  runs  as  follows: 

Fortune,  as  fickle  as  lotus-flower. 
Closes  her  favours  when  comes  the  hour. 
Oh,  foolish  man,  how  can  you  trust  her. 
Who  comes  of  a  sudden,  and  goes  in  a 
fluster? 

Ah,  Pundit.  One  breath  of  your 
teaching  blows  out  the  false  flame  of 
ambition.    Our  teacher  has  said: 

"Teeth  fall  out,  hair  grows  grey, 
Yet  man  clings  to  hope  that  plays  him 
false." 

Well,  King,  now  that  you  have  intro- 
duced the  subject  of  hope,  let  me  give 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING      19 

you  another  verse  from  the  "  Ocean  of 
Renunciation."    It  runs  as  follows: 

That  fetters  are  binding,  all  are  aware; 
But  fetters  of  hope  are  strange,  I  declare. 
Hope's  captive  is  tossed  in  the  whirlpool's 

wake. 
And  only  grows  still  when  the  fetters 

break. 

Ah,  Pundit.  Your  words  are  price- 
less. Vizier,  give  him  a  hundred  gold 
sequins  at  once.  What's  that  noise 
outside? 

It  is  the  famine-stricken  people. 

Tell  them  to  hold  their  peace. 

Let  Sruti-bhushan,  with  his  book  of 
devotions,  go  and  try  to  bring  them 
peace;  and,  in  the  meanwhile,  Your 
Majesty  might  discuss  war  matters, — 

No,  no.  Let  the  war  matters  come 
later.    I  can't  let  Sruti-bhushan  go  yet. 


20     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

King,  you  said  something  to  me,  a 
moment  ago,  about  a  gift  of  gold.  Now 
mere  gold,  by  itself,  does  not  confer  any 
permanent  benefit.  It  is  said  in  my 
book  of  devotions,  called  the  "  Ocean  of 
Renunciation," 

He  who  gives  gold,  gives  only  pain; 
When  the  gold  is  spent  grief  comes  again. 
When  a  lakh,  or  crore,  of  gold  is  spent. 
Grief  only  remains  in  the  empty  tent. 

Ah,  Pundit.  How  exquisite.  So  you 
don't  want  any  gold,  my  Master? 

No,  King,  I  don't  want  gold,  but 
something  more  permanent,  which 
would  make  your  merit  permanent 
also.  I  should  be  quite  content,  if  you 
gave  me  the  living  of  Kanchanpur. 
For  it  is  said  in  the  "Renunciation" — 

No,  Pundit,  I  quite  understand. 
You  needn't  quote  scripture  to  support 
your  claim.  I  understand  quite  well, — 
Vizier! 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     21 

Yes,  Your  Majesty. 

See  that  the  rich  province  of  Kan- 
chanpur  is  settled  on  the  Pundit. — 
What's  the  matter  now  outside  there.'* 
What  are  they  crying  for? 

If  it  please  Your  Majesty,  it  is  the 
people. 

Why  do  they  cry  so  repeatedly.'* 

Their  cry  is  repeated,  I  admit,  but  the 
reason  remains  most  monotonously  the 
same.    They  are  starving. 

But,  King,  I  must  tell  you  before  I 
forget  it.  It  is  the  one  desire  of  my  wife 
to  make  her  whole  body  jingle,  from 
head  to  foot,  in  praise  of  your  munifi- 
cence; but,  alas,  the  sound  is  too  feeble 
for  want  of  proper  ornaments. 

I  understand  you.  Pundit.  Vizier! 
Order  ornaments  from  the  Court  Jewel- 
ler for  Sruti-bhushan's  wife  imme- 
diately. 


22     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

And,  King,  while  he  is  about  it, 
would  you  tell  the  Vizier,  that  we  are 
both  of  us  distracted  in  our  devotions 
by  house-repairs.  Let  him  ask  the 
royal  masons  to  put  up  a  thoroughly 
well-built  house,  where  we  can  practise 
our  devotions  in  peace. 

Very  well.  Pundit, — Vizier! 

Yes,  Your  Majesty. 

Give  the  order  at  once. 

Sire,  your  treasury  is  empty.  Funds 
are  wanting. 

Pooh!  That's  an  old  story.  I  hear 
that  every  year.  It  is  your  business  to 
increase  the  funds,  and  mine  to  increase 
the  wants.  What  do  you  say,  Sruti- 
bhushan.'^ 

King,  I  cannot  blame  the  Vizier.  He 
is  looking  after  your  treasures  in  this 
world.  We  are  looking  after  your  treas- 
ures in  the  next.     So  where  he  sees 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     23 

want,  we  see  wealth.  Now,  if  you 
would  only  let  me  dive  deep  once  more 
into  the  "Ocean  of  Renunciation"  you 
will  find  it  written  as  follows: 

That  King's  coffers  are  icell  stored. 
Where  wealth  alone  on  worth  is  poured. 

Pundit,  your  company  is  most  val- 
uable. 

Your  Majesty,  Sruti-bhushan  knows 
its  value  to  a  farthing.  Come,  Sruti- 
bhushan,  make  haste.  Let  us  collect  all 
the  wealth  you  need  for  your  Treasury 
of  Devotion.  For  wealth  has  the  ugly 
habit  of  diminishing  fast.  If  we  are 
not  quick  about  it,  little  will  remain  to 
enable  us  to  observe  our  renunciation 
with  all  splendour. 

Yes,  Vizier,  let  us  go  at  once.  (To 
the  King.)  When  he  is  making  such  a 
fuss  about  a  tiny  matter  like  this,  it  is 
best  to  pacify  him  first  and  then  return 
to  you  afterwards. 


24     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Pundit,  I  am  afraid  that,  some  day, 
you  will  leave  my  royal  protection  al- 
together, and  retire  to  the  forest. 

King,  so  long  as  I  find  contentment 
in  a  King's  palace,  it  is  as  good  as  a 
hermitage  for  my  peace  of  mind.  I 
must  now  leave  you.  King.    Vizier,  let 

us  go. 

[The  Vizier  and  Pundit  go  out.] 

Oh  dear  me!  Whatever  shall  I  do.^ 
Here's  the  Poet  coming.  I  am  afraid 
he'll  make  me  break  all  my  good  resolu- 
tions.— Oh,  my  grey  hairs,  cover  my 
ears,  so  that  the  Poet's  allurements 
may  not  enter. 

Why,  King,  what's  the  matter?  I 
hear  you  want  to  send  away  your  Poet. 

What  have  I  to  do  with  poets,  when 
poetry  brings  me  this  parting  message? 

What  parting  message? 
Look  at  this  behind  my  ear.    Don't 
you  see  it? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     25 

See  what?  Grey  hairs?  Why,  King, 
don't  you  worry  about  that. 

Poet,  Nature  is  trying  to  rub  out  the 
green  of  youth,  and  to  paint  everything 
white. 

No,  no.  King.  You  haven't  under- 
stood the  artist.  On  that  white  ground, 
Nature  will  paint  new  colours. 

I  don't  see  any  sign  of  colours  yet. 

They  are  all  within.  In  the  heart  of 
the  white  dwell  all  the  colours  of  the 
rainbow. 

O,  Poet,  do  be  quiet.  You  disturb 
me  when  you  talk  like  that. 

King,  if  this  youth  fades,  let  it  fade. 
Another  Queen  of  Youth  is  coming. 
And  she  is  putting  a  garland  of  pure 
white  jasmines  round  your  head,  in 
order  to  be  your  bride.  The  wedding 
festival  is  being  made  ready,  behind 
the  scene. 


26     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Oh,  dear,  Poet.  You  will  undo  every- 
thing. Do  go  away.  Ho  there,  Guard. 
Go  at  once  and  call  Sruti-bhushan. 

What  will  you  do  with  him,  King, 
when  he  comes? 

I  will  compose  my  mind,  and  prac- 
tise my  renunciation. 

Ah,  King,  when  I  heard  that  news,  I 
came  at  once.  For  I  can  be  your  com- 
panion in  this  practice  of  renunciation. 

You? 

Yes,  I,  King.  We,  Poets,  exist  for 
this  very  purpose.  We  set  men  free 
from  their  desires. 

I  don't  understand  you.  You  talk 
in  riddles. 

What?  You  don't  understand  me? 
And  yet  you  have  been  reading  my 
poems  all  this  while! — There  is  renun- 
ciation in  our  words,  renunciation  in 
the  metre,  renunciation  in  our  music. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     27 

That  is  why  fortune  always  forsakes  us; 
and  we,  in  turn  always  forsake  fortune. 
We  go  about,  all  day  long,  initiating 
the  youths  in  the  sacred  cult  of  fortune- 
forsaking. 

What  does  it  say  to  us? 

It  says: 

Ah,  brothers,  don't  cling  to  your  goods 

and  chattels, 
And  sit  ever  in  the  corner  of  your  room. 
Come   out,    come   out   into   the   open 

world. 
Come  out  into  the  highways  of  life. 
Come  out,  ye  youthful  Renouncers. 

But,  Poet,  do  you  really  mean  to  say 
that  the  highway  of  the  open  world  is 
the  pathway  of  renunciation.'^ 

W^hy  not,  King.'^  In  the  open  world 
all  is  change,  all  is  life,  all  is  movement. 
And  he  who  ever  moves  and  journeys 
with  this  life-movement,  dancing  and 
playing  on  his  flute  as  he  goes,  he  is  the 


28     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

true  Renouncer.     He  is  the  true  dis- 
ciple of  the  minstrel  Poet. 

But  how  then  can  I  get  peace?  I 
must  have  peace. 

Oh,  King,  we  haven't  the  least  desire 
for  peace.    We  are  the  Renouncers. 

But  ought  we  not  to  get  that  treas- 
ure, which  is  said  to  be  never-changing? 

No,  we  don't  covet  any  never- 
changing  treasures.  We  are  the  Re- 
nouncers. 

What  do  you  mean?  Oh,  dear.  Poet, 
you  will  undo  everything,  if  you  talk 
like  that.  You  are  destroying  my  peace 
of  mind.  Call  Sruti-bhushan.  Let  some 
one  call  the  Pundit. 

What  I  mean.  King,  is  this.  We  are 
the  true  Renouncers,  because  change 
is  our  very  secret.  We  lose,  in  order 
to  find.  We  have  no  faith  in  the  never- 
changing. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     29 

What  do  you  mean? 

Haven't  you  noticed  the  detachment 
of  the  rushing  river,  as  it  runs  splashing 
from  its  mountain  cave?  It  gives  itself 
away  so  swiftly,  and  only  thus  it  finds 
itself.  What  is  never-changing,  for  the 
river,  is  the  desert  sand,  where  it  loses 
its  course. 

Ah,  but  listen.  Poet — listen  to  those 
cries  there  outside.  That  is  your  world. 
How  do  you  deal  with  that? 

King,  they  are  your  starving  people. 

My  people,  Poet?  Why  do  you  call 
them  that?  They  are  the  world's  peo- 
ple, not  mine.  Have  I  created  their 
miseries?  What  can  your  youthful 
Poet  Renouncers  do  to  relieve  sufferings 
like  theirs?    Tell  me  that. 

King,  it  is  we  alone  who  can  truly 
bear  those  sufferings,  because  we  are 
like  the  river  that  flows  on  in  gladness, 


30     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

thus  lightening  our  burden,  and  the 
burden  of  the  world.  But  the  hard, 
metalled  road  is  fixed  and  never- 
changing.  And  so  it  makes  the  burden 
more  burdensome.  The  heavy  loads 
groan  and  creak  along  it,  and  cut  deep 
gashes  in  its  breast.  We,  Poets,  call  to 
everyone  to  carry  all  their  joys  and 
sorrows  lightly,  in  a  rhythmic  measure. 
Our  call  is  the  Renouncers'  call. 

Ah,  Poet,  now  I  don't  care  a  straw 
for  Sruti-bhushan.  Let  the  Pundit  go 
hang.  But,  do  you  know  what  my 
trouble  is  now?  Though  I  can't,  for 
the  life  of  me,  understand  your  words, 
the  music  haunts  me.  Now,  it's  just 
the  other  way  round  with  the  Pundit. 
His  words  are  clear  enough,  and  they 
obey  the  rules  of  syntax  quite  correctly. 
But  the  tune! — No,  it's  no  use  telling 
you  any  further. 

King,  our  words  don't  speak,  they 
sing. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     31 

Well,  Poet,  what  do  you  want  to  do 
now? 

King,  I'm  going  to  have  a  race 
through  those  cries,  which  are  rising 
outside  your  gate. 

What  do  you  mean?  Famine  relief 
is  for  men  of  business.  Poets  oughtn't 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  things 
like  that. 

King,  business  men  always  make 
their  business  so  out  of  tune.  That  is 
why  we,  Poets,  hasten  to  tune  it. 

Now  come,  my  dear  Poet,  do  speak 
in  plainer  language. 

King,  they  work,  because  they  must. 
We  work,  because  we  are  in  love  with 
life.  That  is  why  they  condemn  us  as 
unpractical,  and  we  condemn  them  as 
lifeless. 

But  who  is  right.  Poet?  Who  wins? 
You,  or  they? 


32     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

We,  King,  we.    We  always  win. 

But,  Poet,  your  proof, — 

King,  the  greatest  things  in  the  world 
disdain  proof.  But  if  you  could  for  a 
time  wipe  out  all  the  poets  and  all  their 
poetry  from  the  world,  then  you  would 
soon  discover,  by  their  very  absence, 
where  the  men  of  action  got  their  en- 
ergy from,  and  who  really  supplied  the 
life-sap  to  their  harvest-field.  It  is  not 
those  who  have  plunged  deep  down  into 
the  Pundit's  Ocean  of  Renunciation, 
nor  those  who  are  always  clinging  to 
their  possessions;  it  is  not  those  who 
have  become  adepts  in  turning  out 
quantities  of  work,  nor  those  who  are 
ever  telling  the  dry  beads  of  duty, — it 
is  not  these  who  win  at  last.  But  it  is 
those  who  love,  because  they  live. 
These  truly  win,  for  they  truly  sur- 
render. They  accept  pain  with  all 
their  strength  and  with  all  their 
strength  they  remove  pain.     It  is  they 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     33 

who  create,  because  they  know  the 
secret  of  true  joy,  which  is  the  secret 
of  detachment. 

Well  then,  Poet,  if  that  be  so,  what 
do  you  ask  me  to  do  now? 

I  ask  you,  King,  to  rise  up  and  move. 
That  cry  outside  yonder  is  the  cry  of 
life  to  life.  And  if  the  life  within  you 
is  not  stirred,  in  response  to  that  call 
without,  then  there  is  cause  for  anxiety 
indeed, — not  because  duty  has  been 
neglected,  but  because  you  are  dying. 

But,  Poet,  surely  we  must  die,  sooner 
or  later? 

No,  King,  that's  a  lie.  When  we  feel 
for  certain  that  we  are  alive,  then  we 
know  for  certain  that  we  shall  go  on 
living.  Those  who  have  never  put  life 
to  the  test,  in  all  possible  ways,  these 
keep  on  crying  out, — 

Life  is  fleeting.  Life  is  waning. 
Life  is  like  a  deio  drop  on  a  lotus  leaf. 


34     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

But,  isn't  life  inconstant? 

Only  because  its  movement  is  un- 
ceasing. The  moment  you  stop  this 
movement,  that  moment  you  begin  to 
play  the  drama  of  Death. 

Poet,  are  you  speaking  the  truth? 
Shall  we  really  go  on  living? 

Yes,  we  shall  really  go  on  living. 

Then,  Poet,  if  we  are  going  to  go  on 
living,  we  must  make  our  life  worth  its 
eternity.    Is  not  that  so? 

Yes,  indeed. 

Ho,  Guard. 

Yes,  your  Royal  Highness. 

Call  the  Vizier  at  once. 

Yes,  your  Royal  Highness. 

[Vizier  enters.] 

What  is  Your  Majesty's  pleasure? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     35 

Vizier !  Why  on  earth  have  you  kept 
me  waiting  so  long? 

I  was  very  busy,  Your  Majesty. 

Busy?    What  were  you  busy  about? 

I  was  dismissing  the  General. 

Why  should  you  dismiss  the  General? 
We  have  got  to  discuss  war  matters 
with  him. 

And  arrangements  had  to  be  made 
for  the  state-departure  of  the  Chinese 
Ambassador. 

What  do  you  mean  by  his  state- 
departure? 

If  it  please  Your  Majesty,  you  did 
not  grant  him  an  interview.    So  he — 

Vizier !  You  surprise  me.  Is  this  the 
way  you  manage  state  affairs?  What 
has  happened  to  you?  Have  you  lost 
your  senses? 

Then,  again.  Sire,  I  was  trying  to 


3G     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

find  a  way  to  pull  down  the  Poet's 
house.  At  first,  no  one  would  under- 
take it.  Then,  at  last,  all  the  Pundits 
of  the  Royal  School  of  Grammar  and 
Logic  came  up  with  their  proper  tools 
and  set  to  work. 

Vizier!  Are  you  mad  this  morning? 
Pull  down  the  Poet's  house?  Why, 
you  might  as  well  kill  all  the  birds  in 
the  garden  and  make  them  up  into  a 
pie. 

If  it  please  Your  Majesty,  you  need 
not  be  annoyed.  We  shan't  have  to 
pull  down  the  house  after  all;  for  the 
moment  Sruti-bhushan  heard  it  was  to 
be  demolished,  he  decided  to  take  pos- 
session of  it  himself. 

What,  Vizier!  That's  worse  still. 
Why!  The  Goddess  of  Music  would 
break  her  harp  in  pieces  against  my 
head,  if  she  even  heard  of  such  a  thing. 
No,  that  can't  be. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRL\(;     37 

Then,  Your  Majesty,  there  was  an- 
other thing  to  be  got  through.  We  had 
to  dehver  over  the  province  of  Kan- 
chanpur  to  the  Pundit. 

No,  Vizier!  What  a  mess  you  are 
making.    That  must  go  to  our  Poet. 

Tome,  King?  No.  My  poetry  never 
accepts  reward. 

Well,  well.    Let  the  Pundit  have  it. 

And,  last  of  all,  Sire.  I  have  issued 
orders  to  the  soldiers  to  disperse  the 
crowd  of  famine-stricken  people. 

Vizier,  you  are  doing  nothing  but 
blunder.  The  best  w  ay  to  disperse  the 
famished  people  is  with  food,  not  force. 

[Guard  enters.] 

May  it  please  your  Royal  Highness. 

What's  the  matter.  Guard? 

May  it  please  your  Royal  Highness, 
here  is  Sruti-bhushan,  the  Pundit,  com- 
ing back  with  his  Book  of  Devotions. 


38     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Oh,  stop  him,  Vizier,  stop  him.  He 
will  undo  everything.  Don't  let  him 
come  upon  me  unawares  like  this.  In 
a  moment  of  weakness,  I  may  suddenly 
find  myself  out  of  my  depths  in  the 
Ocean  of  Renunciation.  Poet!  Don't 
give  me  time  for  that.  Do  something. 
Do  anything.  Have  you  got  anything 
ready  to  hand.^  Any  play  toward.'^ 
Any  poem.f^    Any  masque.'^    Any — 

Yes,  King.  I  have  got  the  very 
thing.  But  whether  it  is  a  drama,  or 
a  poem,  or  a  play,  or  a  masque,  I  can- 
not say. 

Shall  I  be  able  to  understand  the 
sense  of  what  you  have  written.'^ 

No,  King,  what  a  poet  writes  is  not 
meant  to  have  any  sense. 

What  then? 

To  have  the  tune  itself. 

What  do  you  uiesui?  Is  there  no 
philosophy  in  it.'^ 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     39 

No,  none  at  all,  thank  goodness. 

What  does  it  sajs  then? 

King,  it  says  "I  exist."  Don't  you 
know  the  meaning  of  the  first  cry  of 
the  new-born  child .-^  The  child,  when 
it  is  born,  hears  at  once  the  cries  of  the 
earth  and  water  and  sky,  which  sur- 
round him, — and  they  all  cry  to  him, — 
"We  exist,"  and  his  tiny  little  heart 
responds,  and  cries  out  in  its  turn, — 
*'I  exist." — My  poetry  is  like  the  cry 
of  that  new-born  child.  It  is  a  re- 
sponse to  the  cry  of  the  Universe. 

Is  it  nothing  more  than  that,  Poet.'* 

No,  nothing  more.  There  is  life  in 
my  song,  which  cries, — "In  joy  and  in 
sorrow,  in  work  and  in  rest,  in  life  and 
in  death,  in  victory  and  in  defeat,  in 
this  world  and  in  the  next,  all  hail  to 
the  'I  exist.'" 

Well,  Poet,  I  can  assure  you,  if  your 


40     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

play  hasn't  got  any  philosophy  in  it,  it 
won't  pass  muster  in  these  days. 

That's  true,  King.  The  newer  peo- 
ple, of  this  modern  age,  are  more  eager 
to  amass  than  to  realize.  They  are, 
in  their  generation,  wiser  than  the  chil- 
dren of  light. 

Whom  shall  we  ask,  then,  for  an 
audience.'^  Shall  we  ask  the  young 
students  of  our  royal  school.'* 

No,  King,  they  cut  up  poetry  with 
their  logic.  They  are  like  the  young- 
horned  deer  trying  their  new  horns  on 
the  flower  beds. 

Whom  should  I  ask,  then? 

Ask  those  whose  hair  is  turning  grey. 

What  do  you  mean,  Poet.'^ 

The  youth  of  these  middle-aged  peo- 
ple is  a  youth  of  detachment.  They 
have  just  crossed  the  waters  of  pleas- 
ure, and  are  in  sight  of  the  land  of  pure 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     41 

gladness.    Tliey  don't  want  to  eat  fruit, 
but  to  produce  it. 

I,  at  least,  have  now  reached  that 
age  of  discretion,  and  ought  to  be  able 
to  appreciate  your  songs.  Shall  I  ask 
the  General.^ 

Yes,  ask  him. 

And  the  Chinese  Ambassador.'^ 

Yes,  ask  him  too. 

I  hear  my  father-in-law  has  come. 

Well,  ask  him  too,  but  I  have  my 
doubts  about  his  youthful  sons. 

But  don't  forget  his  daughter. 

Don't  worry  about  her.  She  won't 
let  herself  be  forgotten. 

And  Sruti-bhushan  ?   Shall  I  ask  him  ? 

No,  King,  no.  Decidedly,  no.  I 
have  no  grudge  against  him.  Why 
should  I  inflict  this  on  him.'^ 


42     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Very  well,  Poet.  Off  with  you. 
Make  your  stage  preparations. 

No,  King.  We  are  going  to  act  this 
play,  without  any  special  preparations. 
Truth  looks  tawdry  when  she  is  over- 
dressed. 

But,  Poet,  there  must  be  some  can- 
vas for  a  back-ground. 

No.  Our  only  back-ground  is  the 
mind.  On  that  we  shall  summon  up 
a  picture  with  the  magic  wand  of  music. 

Are  there  any  songs  in  the  play.'^ 

Yes,  King.  The  door  of  each  act 
will  be  opened  by  the  key  of  song. 

What  is  the  subject  of  the  songs .'^ 

The  Disrobing  of  Winter. 

But,  Poet,  we  haven't  read  about 
that  in  any  Mythology. 

In  the  world-myth  this  song  comeg 
round  in  its  turn.     In  the  play  of  the 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     43 

seasons,  each  year,  the  mask  of  the  Old 
Man,  Winter,  is  pulled  off,  and  the  form 
of  Spring  is  revealed  in  all  its  beauty. 
Thus  we  see  that  the  old  is  ever  new. 

Well,  Poet,  so  much  for  the  songs: 
but  what  about  the  remainder.^ 

Oh,  that  is  all  about  life. 

Life?    Whatislife.^ 

This  is  how  it  runs, — a  band  of  young 
companions  has  run  off  in  pursuit  of 
one  Old  Man.  They  have  taken  a  vow 
to  catch  him.  They  enter  into  a  cave; 
they  take  hold  of  him;  and  then — 

Then,  what?    What  did  they  see? 

Ah.  That  will  be  told  in  its  own  good 
time. 

But,  I  haven't  understood  one  thing. 
Your  drama  and  your  songs, — have 
they  different  subjects,  or  the  same? 

The  same.  King.    The  play  of  Spring 


44     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

in  nature  is  the  counterpart  of  the  play 
of  Youth  in  our  Hves.  It  is  simply  from 
the  lyrical  drama  of  the  World  Poet, 
that  I  have  stolen  this  plot. 

Who,  then,  are  the  chief  characters? 

One  is  called  the  Leader. 

Who  is  he,  Poet.^ 

He  is  the  guiding  impulse  in  our  life. 
Another  is  Chandra. 

Who  is  he? 

He  who  makes  life  dear  to  us. 

And  who  else? 

Then  there  is  Dada,  to  whom  duty 
is  the  essence  of  life,  not  joy. 

Is  there  anyone  else? 

Yes,  the  blind  Minstrel. 

Blind? 

Because  he  does  not  see  with  his 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     45 

eyes,  therefore  he  sees  with  his  whole 
body  and  mind  and  soul. 

Who  else  is  there,  in  your  play, 
among  the  chief  actors? 

You  are  there.  King. 

I? 

Yes,  you,  King.  For  if  you  stayed 
out  of  it,  instead  of  coming  into  it, 
then  the  King  would  begin  to  abuse 
the  Poet  and  send  for  Sruti-bhushan 
again.  And  then  there  would  be  no 
hope  of  salvation  for  him.  For  the 
World  Poet  himself  would  be  defeated. 
And  the  South  Wind  of  Spring  would 
have  to  retire,  without  receiving  its 
homage. 


ACT  I 

The  Heralds  of  Spring  are  abroad.  TJiere 
are  songs  in  the  rustling  bamboo  leaves, 
in  birds'  nests,  and  in  blossoming 
branches. 

SONG-PRELUDE 

The  purple  secondary  curtain  *  goes  up 
disclosing  the  elevated  rear  stage  with  a 
skyey    background    of  dark    blue    on 

■  which  appear  the  horn  of  the  crescent 
moon  and  the  silver  points  of  stars. 
Trees  in  the  foreground  with  two  rope 
swings  entwined  with  garlands  of  flow- 
ers. Flowers  everywhere  in  profusion. 
On  the  extreme  left  the  mouth  of  a  dark 
cavern  dimly  seen.  Boys  representing 
the  'Bamboo'  disclosed,  swinging. 

*  Note:  neither  the  secondary  curtain  nor 
the  drop  is  again  used  during  the  play.  The 
action  is  continuous,  either  on  the  front  stage, 
or  on  the  rear  stage,  the  latter  being  darkened 
when  not  actually  in  use. 
46 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     47 

Song  of  the  Bamboo 

0  South  Wind,  the  Wanderer,  come  and 

rock  me. 
Rouse   me   into   the   rapture   of  new 
leaves. 

1  am  the  wayside  bamboo  tree,  waiting 

jor  your  breath 
To  tingle  life  into  my  branches. 

0  South  Wind,  the  Wanderer,  my  dwell- 
ing is  in  the  end  of  the  lane. 
I  know  your  wayfaring,  and  the  lan- 
guage of  your  footsteps. 

Your  least  touch  thrills  me  out  of 

my  slumber, 
Your  whisper  gleans  my  secrets. 

[Enter  a  troop  of  girls,  dancing,  repre- 
senting birds.] 

Song  of  the  Bmo 

The  sky  pours  its  light  into  our  hearts. 
We  fill  the  sky  with  songs  in  answer. 
We  pelt  the  air  with  our  notes 


48     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

When  the  air  stirs  our  wings  with  its 
madness. 

0  Flame  of  the  Forest, 

All  your  flower-torches  are  ablaze; 

You  have  kissed  our  songs  red  with  the 
passion  of  your  youth. 

In  the  spring  breeze  the  mango-blossoms 
launch  their  messages  to  the  unknown 

And  the  new  leaves  dream  aloud  all 
day. 

0  Sirish,  you  have  cast  your  perfume- 
net  round  our  hearts 

Drawing  them  out  in  songs. 

[Disclosed  among  the  branches  of  trees, 
suddenly  lighted  up,  boys  represent- 
ing Champak  blossoms.] 

Song  of  the  Blossoming  Champak 

My  shadow  dances  in  your  waves,  ever- 
flowing  river, 

I,  the  blossoming  champak,  stand  un- 
moved on  the  bank,  with  my  flower- 
vigils. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     49 

My  movement  dwells  in  the  stillness  of 
my  depth, 

In    the    delicious    birth    of   new 
leaves. 
In  flood  of  flowers. 
In  unseen  urge  of  new  life  towards 
the  light. 
Its  stirring  thrills  the  shy,  and  the  silence 
of  the  dawn  is  moved. 


Morning 

[The  rear  stage  is  now  darkened.  On  the 
main  stage,  bright,  enter  a  band  of 
youths  whose  number  may  be  any- 
thing between  three  and  thirty.  They 
sing.] 

The  fire  of  April  leaps  from  forest  to 
forest. 
Flashing  up  in  leaves  and  flowers  from 
all  nooks  and  corners. 
The  sky  is  thriftless  with  colours. 

The  air  delirious  with  songs. 
The  wind-tost  branches  of  the  woodland 
Spread  their  unrest  in  our  blood. 
The  air  is  filled  with  bewilderment  of 
mirth; 
And  the  breeze  rushes  from  flower  to 
flower,  asking  their  names. 

[In    the    following    dialogue    only    the 
names  of  the  principal  characters 
are  given.     Wherever  the  name  is 
50 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     51 

not  given   the  speaker  is   one  or 
other  of  the  Youths.] 

April  pulls  hard,  brother,  April  pulls 
very  hard. 

How  do  you  know  that.'^ 

If  he  didn't,  he  would  never  have 
pulled  Dada  outside  his  den. 

Well,    I    declare.     Here    is    Dada, 

our  cargo-boat  of  moral-maxims,  towed 
against  the  current  of  his  own  pen  and 
ink. 

Chandra 

But  you  mustn't  give  April  all  the 
credit  for  that.  For,  I,  Chandra,  have 
hidden  the  yellow  leaves  of  his  manu- 
script book  among  the  young  buds  of 
the  'pial  forest,  and  Dada  is  out  looking 
for  it. 

The    manuscript    book    banished! 
What  a  good  riddance! 


52     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

We  ought  to  strip  off  Dada's  grey 
philosopher's  cloak  also. 

Chandra 

Yes,  the  very  dust  of  the  earth  is 
tingling  with  youth,  and  yet  there's 
not  a  single  touch  of  Spring  in  the  whole 
of  Dada's  body. 

Dada 

Oh,  do  stop  this  fooling.  What  a 
nuisance  you  are  making  of  yourselves ! 
We  aren't  children  any  longer. 

Chandra 

Dada,  the  age  of  this  earth  is  scarcely 
less  than  yours  and  yet  it  is  not 
ashamed  to  look  fresh. 

Dada,  you  are  always  struggling 
with  those  quatrains  of  yours,  full  of 
advice  that  is  as  old  as  death,  while 
the  earth  and  the  water  are  ever  striv- 
ing to  be  new. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     53 

Dada,  how  in  the  world  can  you  go 
on  writing  verses  hke  that,  sitting  in 
your  den? 

Dada 

Well,  you  see,  I  don't  cultivate  poe- 
try, as  an  amateur  gardener  cultivates 
flowers.  My  poems  have  substance  and 
weight  in  them. 

Yes,  they  are  like  the  turnips,  which 
cling  to  the  ground. 

Dada 
Well,  then,  listen  to  me, — 

How  aw^ul!  Here's  Dada  going  to 
run  amuck  with  his  quatrains. 

Oh  dear,  Oh  dear!  The  quatrains 
are  let  loose.  There's  no  holding  them 
in. 

To  all  passers  by  I  give  notice,  that 
Dada's  quatrains  have  gone  mad,  and 
are  running  amuck. 


54     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Chandra 

Dada !  Don't  take  any  notice  of  their 
fun.  Go  on  with  your  reading.  If  no 
one  else  can  survive  it,  I  think  I  can. 
I  am  not  a  coward  hke  these  fellows. 

Come  on,  then,  Dada.  We  won't  be 
cowards.  We  will  keep  our  ground, 
and  not  yield  an  inch,  but  only  listen. 

We  will  receive  the  spear-thrusts  of 
the  quatrains  on  our  breast,  not  on 
our  back. 

But  for  pity's  sake,  Dada,  give  us 
only  one, — not  more. 

Dada 
Very  well.    Now  listen: 

If  bamboos  were  made  only  into  flutes. 
They  would  droop   and  die  with  very 

shame. 
They  hold  their  heads  high  in  the  sky. 
Because  they  are  variously  useful. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     55 

Please,  gentlemen,  don't  laugh.  Have 
patience  while  I  explain.  The  meaning 
is — 

The  meaning.'^ 

What.^  Must  the  infantry  charge  of 
meaning  follow  the  cannonading  of 
your  quatrains,  to  complete  the  rout? 


Dada 

Just  one  word  to  make  you  under- 
stand. It  means,  that  if  the  bamboos 
were  no  better  than  those  noisy  instru- 
ments,— 

No,  Dada,  we  must  not  understand. 

I  defy  you  to  make  us  understand. 

Dada,  if  you  use  force  to  make  us 
understand,  we  shall  use  force  to  force 
ourselves  not  to  understand. 

Dada 

The  gist  of  the  quatrain  is  this,  that 
if  we  do  no  good  to  the  world,  then, — 


56     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Then  the  world  will  be  very  greatly 
relieved. 

Dada 

There  is  another  verse,  that  makes  it 
clearer : 

There  are  numerous  stars  in  the  midnight 

sky, 
Which  hang  in  the  air  for  no  purpose; 
If  they  would  only  come  down  to  earth. 
For  the  street  lighting  they  might  be  useful. 

I  see  we  must  make  clearer  our 
meaning.  Catch  him.  Let's  raise  him 
up,  shoulder  high,  and  take  him  back 
to  his  den. 

Dada 
Why    are    you    so    excited    to-day? 
Have  you  any  particular  business  to  do? 

Yes,  we  have  very  urgent  business, — 
very  urgent  indeed. 

Dada 
What  is  your  business  about? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     57 

We  are  out  to  seek  a  play  for  our 
Spring  festival. 

Dada 
Play!    Day  and  night,  play! 

[They  sing.] 

We  are  free,  my  friends,  from  the  fear  of 

work. 
For  we  know  that  work  is  play, — the 

play  of  life. 
It  is  Play,  to  fight  and  toss,  between  life 

and  death; 
It  is  Play  that  flashes  in  the  laughter  of 

light  in  the  infinite  heart; 
It  roars  in  the  wind,  and  surges  in  the 

sea. 

Oh,  here  comes  our  Leader.    Broth- 
ers,— our  Leader,  our  Leader. 

Leader 
Hallo !    What  a  noise  you  make ! 

Was  it  that  which  made  you  come 
out  of  doors? 


58     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Leader 
Yes. 

Well,  we  did  it  for  that  very  purpose. 

Leader 
You  don't  want  me  to  remain  in- 
doors? 

Why  remain  indoors?  This  outer 
world  has  been  made  with  a  lavish 
expenditure  of  sun  and  moon  and  stars. 
Let  us  enjoy  it,  and  then  we  can  save 
God's  face  for  indulging  in  such  ex- 
travagance. 

Leader 

What  were  you  discussing? 

This: 

{They  sing.] 

Play  blooms  in  flower  and  ripens  in 

fruit 
In  the  sunshine  of  eternal  youth. 
Play  bursts  up  in  the  blood-red  fire,  and 

licks  into  ashes  the  decaying  and 

the  dead. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     59 

Our  Dada's  objection  was  about  this 
play. 

Ddda 

Shall  I  tell  you  the  reason  why? 

Yes,  Dada,  you  may  tell  us,  but  we 
shan't  promise  to  listen. 

Dada 
Here  it  is: 

Time  is  the  capital  of  worl'. 

And  Play  is  its  defalcation. 

Play  rifles  the  house,  and  then  wastes  its 
spoil. 

Therefore  the  wise  call  it  worse  than  use- 
less. 

Chandra 

But  surely,  Dada,  you  are  talking 
nonsense.  Time  itself  is  Play.  Its  only 
object  is  Pas- time. 

Dada 
Then  what  is  Work.? 


60     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Chandra 
Work  is  the  dust  raised  by  the  pass- 
ing of  Time. 

Dada 
Leader,  you  must  give  us  your  an- 
swers. 

Leader 

No.  I  never  give  answers.  I  lead 
on  from  one  question  to  another.  That 
is  my  leadership. 

Dada 
Everything  else  has  its  limits,  but 
your    childishness    is    absolutely    un- 
bounded. 

Do  you  know  the  reason?  It  is  be- 
cause we  are  really  nothing  but  chil- 
dren. And  everything  else  has  its 
limitations  except  the  child. 

Dada 
Won't  you  ever  attain  Age? 
No,  we  shall  never  attain  Age. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     01 

We  shall  die  old,  but  never  attain 
Age. 

Chandra 

When  we  meet  Age,  we  shall  shave 
his  head,  and  put  him  on  a  donkey,  and 
send  him  across  the  river. 

Oh,  you  can  save  yourself  the  trouble 
of  shaving  his  head,  for  Age  is  bald. 

[They  sing.] 

Our  hair  shall  never  turn  grey. 

Never. 
There  is  no  blank  in  this  world  for  us,  no 

break  in  our  road. 
It  may  be  an  illusion  that  we  follow. 
But  it  shall  never  play  us  false. 

Never. 

[The  Leader  sings.] 

Our  hair  shall  never  turn  grey. 

Never. 
We  will  never  doubt  the  world  and  shut 
our  eyes  to  ponder. 

Never. 


62     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

We  will  not  grope  in  the  maze  of  our  mind. 
We  flow  with  the  flood  of  things,  from  the 

mountain  to  the  sea. 
We  will  never  be  lost  in  the  desert  sand. 

Never. 

We  can  tell,  by  his  looks,  that  Dada 
will  some  day  go  to  that  Old  Man,  to 
receive  his  lessons. 

Leader 
Which  Old  Man? 

The  Old  Man  of  the  line  of  Adam. 
He  dwells  in  a  cave,  and  never  thinks 
of  dying. 

Leader 

Where  did  you  learn  about  him.^ 

Oh,  everyone  talks  about  him.  And 
it  is  in  the  books  also. 

Leader 
What  does  he  look  like? 

Some  say  he  is  white,  like  the  skull 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     63 

of  a  dead  man.     And  some  say  he  is 
dark,  like  the  socket  of  a  skeleton's  eye. 

But  haven't  you  heard  any  news  of 
him,  Leader? 

Leader 
I  don't  believe  in  him  at  all. 

Well,  that  goes  entirely  against  cur- 
rent opinion.  That  Old  Man  is  more 
existent  than  anything  else.  He  lives 
within  the  ribs  of  creation. 

According  to  our  Pundit,  it  is  we  who 
have  no  existence.  You  can't  be  cer- 
tain whether  we  are,  or  are  not. 

Chandra 

We?  Oh,  we  are  too  brand  new  alto- 
gether. We  haven't  yet  got  our  cre- 
dentials to  prove  that  we  exist. 

Leader 
Have  you  really  gone  and  opened 
communication  with  the  Pundits? 


64     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Why?  What  harm  is  there  in  that. 
Leader? 

Leader 

You  will  become  pale,  like  the  white 
mist  in  autumn.  Even  the  least  colour 
of  blood  will  disappear  from  your  mind. 
I  have  a  suggestion. 

What,  Leader?    What? 

Leader 
You  were  looking  out  for  a  play? 

Yes,  yes,  we  got  quite  frantic  about 
it. 

We  thought  it  over  so  vigorously, 
that  people  had  to  run  to  the  King's 
court  to  lodge  a  complaint. 

Leader 

Well,  I  can  suggest  a  play  which  will 
be  new. 

What.^— What?— Tell  us. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     65 

Leader 
Go  and  capture  the  Old  Man. 

That  is  new,  no  doubt,  but  we  very 
much  doubt  if  it's  a  play. 

Leader 
I  am  sure  you  won't  be  able  to  do  it. 
Not  do  it?    We  shall. 

Leader 
No,  never. 

Well  then,  suppose  we  do  capture 
him,  what  will  you  give  us.'^ 

Leader 
I  shall  accept  you  as  my  preceptor. 

Preceptor!     You  want  to  make  us 

grey,    and   cold,    and   old,   before   our 

time. 

Leader 

Then,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do.'* 

If  we  capture  him,  then  we  shall  take 
away  your  leadership. 


66     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Leader 
That  will  be  a  great  relief  to  me. 
You  have  made  all  my  bones  out  of 
joint  already.    Very  well,  then  it's  all 
settled? 

Yes,  settled.  We  shall  bring  him  to 
■you  by  the  next  full  moon  of  Spring. 

But  what  are  we  going  to  do  with 
him? 

Leader 

You  shall  let  him  join  in  your  Spring 
Festival. 

Oh,  no,  that  will  be  outrageous. 
Then  the  mango  flowers  will  run  to 
seed  at  once. 

And  all  the  cuckoos  will  become  owls. 

And  the  bees  will  go  about  reciting 
Sanskrit  verses,  making  the  air  hum 
with  m's  and  n's. 

Leader 
And  your  skull  will  be  so  topheavy 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     67 

with  prudence,  that  it  will  be  difficult 
for  you  to  keep  on  your  feet. 

How  awful ! 

Leader 

And  you  will  have  rheumatics  in  all 
your  joints. 

How  awful ! 

Leader 

And  you  will  become  your  own  elder 
brothers,  pulling  your  own  ears  to  set 
yourselves  right. 

How  awful ! 

Leader 
And— 

No  more  "ands."  We  are  ready  to 
surrender. 

We  will  abandon  our  game  of  cap- 
turing the  Old  Man. 

We  will  put  it  off  till  the  cold  weather. 


68     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

In  this  Springtime,  your  company  will 
be  enough  for  us. 

Leader 
Ah,  I  see!    You  have  already  got  the 
chill  of  the  Old  Man  in  your  bones. 

Why.'^    What  are  the  symptoms.'^ 

Leader 
You  have  no  enthusiasm.    You  back 
out  at  the  very  start.    Why  don't  you 
make  a  trial  .^^ 

Very  well.    Agreed.    Come  on. 

Let  us  go  after  the  Old  Man.  We 
will  pluck  him  out,  like  a  grey  hair, 
wherever  we  find  him. 

Leader 
But  the  Old  Man  is  an  adept  in  the 
business   of   plucking   out.      His   best 
weapon  is  the  hoe. 

You  needn't  try  to  frighten  us  like 
that.    When  we  are  out  for  adventure, 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     69 

we  must  leave  behind  all  fears,  all  quat- 
rains, all  Pundits,  and  all  Scriptures. 

[They  sing.] 

We  are  out  on  our  way 
And  we  fear  not  the  Robber,  the  Old 
Man. 
Our  path  is  straight,  it  is  broad. 

Our  burden  is  light,  Jor  our  pocket  is 
bare. 
Who  can  rob  us  of  our  folly? 
For  us  there  is  no  rest,  nor  ease,  nor 
praise,  nor  success. 
We  dance  in  the  measure  of  fortune's  rise 
and  fall. 
We  play  our  game,  or  loin  or  lose. 
And  we  fear  not  the  Robber. 


ACT  II 

SONG-PRELUDE 

[Spring's  Heralds  try  to  rob  Winter  of 
his  outfit  of  age.] 

[Rear  stage  lighted  up,  disclosing  Old 
Winter  teased  by  the  boys  and  girls 
representing  Spring's  Heralds.] 

Song  of  the  Heralds  of  Spring 

We  seek  our  playmates. 

Waking  them  up  from  all  corners  be- 
fore it  is  morning. 
We  call  them  in  bird  songs. 

Beckon  them  in  nodding  branches. 
We  spread  our  spell  for  them   in  the 

splendour  of  clouds. 
We  laugh  at  solemn  Death 
Till  he  joins  in  our  laughter. 
70 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     71 

We  tear  open  Time's  purse. 

Taking  hack  his  plunder  from  him. 

You  shall  lose  your  heart  to  us,  0  Winter. 
It  will  gleam  in  the  trembling  leaves 
And  break  into  flowers. 

Song  of  Winter 

Leave  me,  let  me  go. 
I  sail  for  the  bleak  North,  for  the  peace 
of  the  frozen  shore. 
Your  laughter  is  untimely,  my  friends. 
You  turn  my  farewell  tunes  into  the  wel- 
come song  of  the  Newcomer, 
And  all  things  draw  me  back  again 
into  the  dancing  ring  of  their  hearts. 

Song  of  the  Heralds  of  Spring 

Life's  spies  are  we,  lurking  in  ambush 
everywhere. 
We  wait  to  rob  you  of  your  last  savings 
of  withered  hours  to  scatter  them  in 
the  wayward  winds. 


72     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

We  shall  bind  you  in  flower  chains 
where  Spring  keeps  his  captives. 

For  we  know  you  carry  your  jewels  of 
youth  hidden  in  your  grey  rags. 


Noon 

[The  rear  stage  is  darkened.  The  hand  of 
Youths  enters  on  the  main  stage.  No 
actual  change  in  the  scenery  is  neces- 
sary— this  being  left  to  the  imagination 
of  the  audience.] 

Ferryman.     Ferryman.     Open  your 
door. 

Ferryman 

What  do  you  want.^^ 
We  want  the  Old  Man. 

Ferryman 
Which  old  man? 

Not  which  old  man.     We  want  the 
Old  Man. 

Ferryman 
Who  is  he? 

The  true  and  original  Old  Man. 
73 


74     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Ferryman 

Oh.     I  understand.     What  do  you 
want  him  for? 

For  our  Spring  Festival. 

Ferryman 

For  your  Spring  Festival.^    Are  you 
become  mad? 

Not  a  sudden  becoming.     We  have 
been  Uke  this  from  the  beginning. 

And  we  shall  go  on  like  this  to  the 
end. 

[They  sing.] 

The  Piper  pipes  in  the  centre,  hidden 

from  sight. 
And  we  become  frantic,  we  dance. 
The  March  wind,  seized  with  frenzy. 
Runs  and  reels,  and  sways  with  noisy 

branches. 
The  sun  and  stars  are  drawn  in  the  whirl 

of  rapture. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     75 

Now,  Ferryman,  give  us  news  of  the 
Old  Man. 

You  ply  your  boat  from  one  landing 
stage  to  another.  Surely  you  know 
where, — 

Ferryman 

My  business  is  limited  only  to  the 
path.  But  whose  path  it  is,  and  what 
it  means,  I  have  no  occasion  to  enquire. 
For  my  goal  is  the  landing  stage,  not 
the  house. 

Very  well.  Let  us  go,  let  us  try  all 
the  ways. 

[They  sing.] 

The  Piper  pipes  in  the  centre,  hidden 
from  sight. 
Ah,  the  turbulent  tune,  to  whose  time 
the  oceans  dance. 

And  dance  our  heaving  hearts. 
Fling  away  all  burdens  and  cares,  brother. 

Do  not  be  doubtful  of  your  path. 
For  the  path  wakes  up  of  itself 

Under  the  dancing  steps  of  freedom. 


76     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Ferryman 

There  comes  the  Watchman.  Ask 
him.  I  know  about  the  way;  but  he 
knows  about  the  wayfarers. 

Watchman 
Who  are  you? 

We  are  just  what  you  see.  That's 
our  only  description. 

Watchman 
But  what  do  you  want.^* 
We  want  the  Old  Man. 

Watchman 
Which  old  man? 
That  eternal  Old  Man. 

Watchman 

How  absurd !  While  you  are  seeking 
him,  he  is  after  you. 

W%? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     77 

Watchman 

He  is  fond  of  warming  his  cold  blood 
with  the  wine  of  hot  youth. 

We'll  give  him  a  warm  enough  recep- 
tion. All  we  want  is  to  see  him.  Have 
you  seen  him.?^ 

Watchman 

My  watch  is  at  night.  I  see  my  peo- 
ple, but  don't  know  their  features. 
But,  look  here,  everyone  knows  that 
he  is  the  great  kidnapper;  and  you 
want  to  kidnap  him!  It's  midsummer 
madness. 

The  secret  is  out.  It  doesn't  take 
long  to  discover  that  we  are  mad. 

Watchman 

I  am  the  Watchman.  The  people  I 
see  passing  along  the  road  are  all  very 
much  alike.  Therefore,  when  I  see 
anything  queer,  it  always  strikes  me. 


78     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Just  listen  to  him.  All  the  respect- 
able people  of  our  neighbourhood  say 
just  the  same  thing, — that  we  are  queer. 

Yes,  we're  queer.  There's  no  mis- 
take about  that. 

Watchman 
But  all  this  is  utter  childishness. 

Do  you  hear  that?  It's  exactly  what 
our  Dada  says. 

We  have  been  going  on  with  our 
childishness  through  un-remembered 
ages. 

And  now  we  have  become  confirmed 
children. 

And  we  have  a  leader,  who  is  a  per- 
fect veteran  in  childhood.  He  rushes 
along  so  recklessly,  that  he  drops  off 
his  age  at  every  step  he  runs. 

Watchman 
And  who  are  you.^^ 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     79 

We  are  butterflies,  freed  from  the 
cocoon  of  Age. 

Watchman 
[Aside.]  Mad.    Raving  mad. 

Ferryman 
Then  what  will  you  all  do  now? 

Chandra 
We  shall  go, — 

Watchman 
Where? 

Chandra 
That  we  haven't  decided. 

Watchman 
You  have  decided  to  go,   but  not 
where  to  go? 

Chandra 
Yes,  that  will  be  settled  as  we  go 
along. 


80     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Watchman 
What  does  that  mean? 

Chandra 
It  means  this  song. 

[They  sing.] 

We  move  and  move  without  rest. 
We  move  while  the  wanderers'  stars  shine 
in  the  sky  and  fade. 
We  play  the  tune  of  the  road 
While  our  limbs  scatter  away  the  laughter 
of  movement. 
And  our  many  coloured  mantle  of  youth 
flutters  about  in  the  air. 

Watchman 

Is  it  your  custom  to  answer  questions 
by  songs? 

Chandra 

Yes,  otherwise  the  answer  becomes 
too  unintelHgible. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     81 

Watchman 

Then  you  think  your  songs  intel- 
Hgible? 

Chandra 

Yes,  quite,  because  they  contain 
music. 

[They  sing.] 

We  move  and  move  without  rest. 

World,  the  Rover,  loves  his  comrades 
of  the  road. 
His  call  comes  across  the  sky, 

The  seasons  lead  the  way,  strewing 
the  path  with  flowers. 

Watchman 

No  ordinary  being  ever  breaks  out 
singing,  Hke  this,  in  the  middle  of 
talking. 

Chandra 

Again  we  are  found  out.  We  are  no 
ordinary  beings. 


82     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Watchman 
Have  you  got  no  work  to  do? 

Chandra 
No,  we  are  on  a  holiday. 

Watchman 
Why? 

Chandra 

Lest  our  time  should  all  be  wasted. 

Watchman 
I  don't  quite  understand  you. 

Chandra 

Then  we  shall  be  obliged  to  sing 
again. 

Watchman 

No,  no.  There's  no  need  to  do  that. 
I  don't  hope  to  understand  you  any 
better,  even  if  you  do  sing. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     83 

Chajidra 

Everybody  has  given  up  the  hope  of 
understanding  us. 

Watchman 

But  how  can  things  get  on  with  you, 
if  you  behave  Hke  this? 

Chandra 

Oh,  there's  no  need  for  things  to  get 
on  with  us,  so  long  as  we  ourselves  get 
on. 

Watchman 
Mad !    Quite  mad !    Raving  mad ! 

Chandra 
Why,  here  comes  our  Dada. 
Dada,  what  made  you  lag  behind? 

Chandra 

Don't  you  know?  We  are  free  as  the 
wind,  because  we  have  no  substance 


84     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

in  us.  But  Dada  is  like  the  rain-cloud 
of  August.  He  must  stop,  every  now 
and  then,  to  unburden  himself. 

Dada 
Who  are  you? 

Ferryman 
T  am  the  Ferryman. 

Dada 
And  who  are  you? 

Watchman 
I  am  the  Watchman. 

Dada 

I  am  delighted  to  see  you.  I  want 
to  read  you  something  that  I  have 
written.  It  contains  nothing  frivo- 
lous, but  only  the  most  important 
lessons. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     85 

Ferryman 
Very  good.    Let  us  have  it  then. 

Watchman 

Our  master  used  to  tell  us,  that  there 
are  plenty  of  men  to  say  good  things, 
but  very  few  to  listen.  That  requires 
strength  of  mind.  Now,  go  on,  Sir, 
go  on. 

Dada 

I  saw,  in  the  street,  one  of  the  king's 
officers  dragging  along  a  merchant. 
The  King  had  made  up  a  false  charge,  in 
order  to  get  his  money.  This  gave  me 
an  inspiration.  You  must  know,  that 
I  never  write  a  single  line  which  is  not 
inspired  by  some  actual  fact.  You  can 
put  my  verses  to  the  test  in  the  open 
streets  and  markets, — 

Ferryman 

Please,  Sir,  do  let  us  hear  what  you 
have  written. 


86     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Dada 
The  sugar-cane  filling  itself  with  juice 
Is  chewed  and  sucked  dry  by  all  beggars. 
0  foolish  men,  take  your  lesson  from  this; 
Those  trees  are  saved,  which  are  fruitful. 

You  will  understand  that  the  sugar- 
cane gets  into  trouble,  simply  because 
it  tries  to  keep  its  juice.  But  nobody 
is  so  foolish  as  to  kill  the  tree  that 
freely  gives  fruit. 

Watchman 
What  splendid  writing,  Ferryman. 

Ferryman 
Yes,   Watchman,   it   contains   great 
lessons  for  us. 

Watchman 
It  gives  me  food  for  thought.  If 
only  I  had  here  our  neighbour,  the 
Scribe!  I  should  like  to  take  this  down. 
Do  send  round  to  tell  the  people  of 
the  place  to  assemble. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     87 

Chandra 

But,    Ferryman,    you    promised    to 

come  out  with  us.     Yet,  if  once  Dada 

begins  to  quote  his   quatrains,   there 

will  be, — 

Ferryman 

Go  along  with  you.  None  of  your 
madness  here.  We  are  fortunate  now 
in  having  met  our  master.  Let  us 
improve  the  occasion  with  good  words. 
We  are  all  of  us  getting  old.  Who 
knows  when  we  shall  die.^^ 

All  the  more  reason  why  you  should 
cultivate  our  company. 

Chandra 
You  can  always  find  another  Dada. 
But  when  once  we  are  dead,  God  will 
never  repeat  the  blunder  of   another 
absurdity  like  us  again. 

[Enter  Oilman.] 
Oilman 
Ho !    Watchman. 


88     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Watchman 
Who  is  there?    Is  that  the  Oilman? 

Oilman 

The  child   I  was   bringing  up   was 
kidnapped  last  night. 

Watchman 
By  whom? 

Oilman 
By  the  Old  Man. 

Youths 

[Together.]  Old    Man?      You    don't 
mean  it.    Old  Man? 

Oilman 

Yes,  Sirs,  the  Old  Man;  what  makes 
you  so  glad? 

Oh,  that's  a  bad  habit  of  ours.    We 
become  glad  for  no  reason  whatever. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     89 

Watchman 
[Aside.]  Mad!    Raving  mad! 
Have  you  seen  the  Old  Man? 

Oilman 
I  think  I  saw  him  in  the  distance  last 
night. 

First  Youth 
What  did  he  look  like? 

Oilman 
Black.    More  black  than  our  brother 
here,  the  Watchman.     Black  as  night, 
with  two  eyes  on  his  breast  shining 
like  two  glow-worms. 

That  won't  suit  us.  That  would  be 
awkward  for  our  Spring  Festival. 

Chandra 

We  shall  have  to  change  our  date 
from  the  full  moon  to  the  dark  moon. 
For  the  dark  moon  has  no  end  of  eyes 
on  her  breast. 


90     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Watchman 

But  I  warn  you,  my  friends,  you  are 
not  doing  wisely. 

No,  we  are  not. 

We  are  found  out  again.  We  never 
do  anything  wisely.  It  is  contrary  to 
our  habit. 

Watchman 
Do  you  take  this  to  be  a  joke.^     I 
warn  you,  my  friends,  it  is  dangerous. 

Dangerous.^  That's  the  best  joke 
of  all. 

[They  sing.] 
We  are  neither  too  good,  nor  wise. 

That  is  all  the  merit  we  have. 
Our  calumny  spreads  from  land  to  land, 

And  danger  dogs  our  steps. 
We   take   great   care   to  forget   what   is 
taught  us. 
We  say  things  different  from  the  hook, 
Bringing  upon  us  trouble. 
And  rebuke  from  the  learned. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     91 

Watchman 
Ah,    Sir,    you    spoke    about    some 
Leader.    Where  is  he?    He  could  have 
kept  you  in  order,  if  he  were  with  you. 

He  never  stays  with  us,  lest  he  should 
have  to  keep  us  in  order. 

He  simply  launches  us  on  our  way, 
and  then  slips  off. 

Watchman 
That's  a  poor  idea  of  leadership. 

Chandra 
He   is    never   concerned    about    his 
leadership.    That  is  why  we  recognize 
him  as  our  Leader. 

Watchman 
Then  he  has  got  a  very  easy  task. 

Chandra 
It  is  no  easy  task  to  lead  men.    But 
it  is  easy  enough  to  drive  them. 


92     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

[TJiey  sing.] 

We  are  not  too  good,  nor  tvise. 

That  is  all  the  merit  we  have. 
In  a  luckless  moment  we  were  born. 
When   the   star   of  wisdom   was   the 
dimmest. 
We  can  hope  for  no  profit  from  our  ad- 
ventures. 

We  move  on,  because  we  must. 

Dada,  come  on.    Let  us  go. 

Watchman 

No,  no,  Sir.  Don't  you  get  yourself 
into  mischief  in  their  company. 

Ferryman 

You  read  your  verses,  Sir,  to  us. 
Our  neighbours  will  be  here  soon. 
They  will  be  greatly  profited. 

Dada 
No.    I'm  not  going  to  move  a  step 
from  here. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPUING     93 

Then  let  us  move.  The  men  in  the 
street  can't  bear  us. 

That's  because  we  rattle  them  too 
much. 

You  hear  the  hum  of  human  bees, 
they  smell  the  honey  of  Dada's  quat- 
rains. 

Youths 
[Together.]    They  come.    They  come. 

[Enter  Village  folk.] 

Villager 

Is  it  true  that  there  is  going  to  be  a 
reading? 

Who  are  you?  Are  you  going  to 
read? 

No.  We  commit  all  kinds  of  atroci- 
ties, but  not  that.  This  one  merit  will 
bring  us  salvation. 


94     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Villager 

What  do  they  say?  They  seem  to  be 
talking  in  riddles. 

Chandra 

We  only  say  things  which  we  per- 
fectly understand  ourselves,  and  they 
are  riddles  to  you.  Dada  repeats  to 
you  things  which  you  understand  per- 
fectly and  these  sound  to  you  the  very 
essence  of  wisdom. 

[Boy  enters.] 

Boy 

•     I  couldn't  catch  him. 

Whom.?> 

Boy 

The  Old  Man,  whom  you  are  seek- 
ing. 

Have  you  seen  him.'* 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     95 

Boy 

Yes,  I  thought  I  saw  him  going  by 
in  a  car. 

Where?    In  what  direction? 

Boy 

I  couldn't  make  out  exactly.  The 
dust  raised  by  his  wheels  is  still  whirl- 
ing in  the  air. 

Then  let  us  go. 

He  has  filled  the  sky  with  dead 
leaves. 

[They  go  out.\ 

Watchman 

They  are  mad !  Quite  mad !  Raving 
mad! 


ACT  III 

SONG-PRELUDE 

[Winter  is  being  unmasked, — his  hidden 
youth  about  to  be  disclosed.] 

[The   rear   stage   lighted   up,   disclosing 
Winter  and  the  Heralds  of  Spring.] 

Song  of  the  Heralds  of  Spring 

How    grave    he    looks,    how    laughably 
old. 

How  solemnly  quiet  among  death  prepara- 
tions! 

Come,  friends,  help  him  to  find  himself 
before  he  reaches  home. 

Change  his  pilgrim's  robe  into  the  dress 
of  the  singing  youth 

Snatch  away  his  bag  of  dead  things 

And  confound  his  calculations. 
96 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     97 

[Another  group  sings.] 

The  time  comes  when  the  world  shall  hnoio 
that  you  re  not  banished  in  your  own 
shadows; 
Your  heart  shall  hurst  in  torrents 

Out  of  the  clasp  of  the  ice; 
And  your  North  wind  turn  its  face 

Against  the  haunts  of  the  flitting  phan- 
toms. 
There  sounds  the  magician's  drum. 
And  the  sun  waits  with  laughter  in  his 
glance 
To  see  your  grey  turn  into  green. 


Evening 

[The  rear  stage  is  darkened;  the  light  on 
the  main  stage  dimmed  to  the  greyness 
of  dark.] 

Band  of  Youths 

They  all  cry,  "There,  There,"  and 
when  we  look  for  it,  we  find  nothing 
but  dust  and  dry  leaves. 

I  thought  I  had  a  glimpse  of  the  flag, 
on  his  car,  through  the  cloud. 

It  is  diflBcult  to  follow  his  track.  Now 
it  seems  East:  now  it  seems  West. 

And  so  we  are  tired,  chasing  shadows 
all  day  long.    And  the  day  has  been  lost. 

I  tell  you  the  truth.  Fear  comes 
more  and  more  into  my  mind,  as  the 
day  passes. 

We    have    made    a    mistake.      The 
morning  light  whispered  in  our  ears, — 
98 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     99 

"Bravo,    march    on" — And    now,    the 
evening  hght  is  mocking  us  for  that, 

I  am  afraid  we  have  been  deceived. 
I  am  beginning  to  feel  greater  respect 
for  Dada's  quatrains  than  before.  We 
shall  all  be  soon  sitting  down  on  the 
ground  composing  quatrains. 

And,  then,  the  whole  neighbourhood 
will  come,  swarming  round  us.  And 
they  will  get  such  immense  benefit 
from  our  wisdom,  that  they  will  never 
leave  us. 

And  we  shall  settle  down  like  a  great 
big  boulder,  cold  and  immovable. 

And  they  will  cling  to  us,  as  we  sit 
there,  like  a  thick  fog. 

What  would  our  Leader  think  of  us, 
I  wonder,  if  he  could  hear  us  now.'^ 

I  am  sure  it  is  our  Leader,  who  has 
led  us  astray.  He  makes  us  toil  for 
nothing,  while  he  himself  remains  idle. 


100    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Let  us  go  back  and  fight  with  him. 
We  will  tell  him,  that  we  won't  move 
a  step  further,  but  sit  with  our  legs 
tucked  under  us.  These  legs  are 
wretched  vagabonds.  They  are  always 
trudging  the  road. 

We  will  keep  our  hands  fast  behind 
our  backs. 

There  is  no  mischief  in  the  back;  all 
the  trouble  is  in  the  front. 

Of  all  our  limbs,  the  back  is  the  most 
truthful.    It  says  to  us, — "Lie  down." 

When  we  are  young,  that  braggart 
breast  is  a  great  swell;  but,  in  the  end, 
we  can  only  rely  on  our  back. 

The  little  stream,  that  flows  past  our 
village,  comes  to  my  mind.  That 
morning,  we  thought  that  it  said  to 
us, — "Forward!  Forward!"  But  what 
it  really  said  was, — "False!  False!" 
The  world  is  all  false. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     101 

Our  Pundit  used  to  tell  us  that. 

We  shall  go  straight  to  the  Pundit, 
when  we  get  back. 

We  shall  never  stir  one  step  outside 
the  limit  of  the  Pundits'  Scriptures. 

What  a  mistake  we  made.  We 
thought  that  moving  itself  was  some- 
thing heroic. 

But  really  not  to  move, — that  is 
heroic:  because  it  is  defying  the  whole 
moving  world. 

Brave  rebels  that  we  are,  we  shall 
not  move.  We  shall  have  the  audacity 
to  sit  still,  and  never  move  an  inch. 

*'Life  and  youth  are  fleeting,"  the 
Scripture  says.  Let  life  and  youth  go 
to  the  dogs,  we  shall  not  move. 

"Our  minds  and  wealth  are  fleeting," 
adds  the  Scripture — "Give  them  up 
and  sit  still," — say  we. 


102    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Let  us  go  back  to  the  point,  from 
which  we  started. 

But  that  would  be  to  move. 

What  then.5^ 

There  sit  down,  where  we  have  come 
to. 

And  let  us  imagine,  that  there  we  had 
been,  before  we  ever  came  there. 

Yes,  yes,  that  will  keep  our  minds 
still.  If  we  know  that  we  have  come 
from  somewhere  else,  then  the  mind 
longs  for  that  somewhere  else. 

That  land  of  somewhere  else  is  a  very 
dangerous  place. 

There  the  ground  moves,  and  also 
the  roads.    But  as  for  us, — 

[They  sing.] 
We  cling  to  our  seats  and  never  stir. 
We  allow  ourfloioers  to  fade  in  peace. 
And  avoid  the  trouble  of  hearing 
fruit. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING   103 

Let  the  starlights  hlazen  their  eternal  Jolly 

We  quench  our  flames. 
Let  the  forest  rustle  and  the  ocean  roar. 

We  sit  mute. 
Let  the  call  of  the  flood-tide  come  from 
tlic  sea. 

We  remain  still. 

Do  you  hear  that  laughter? 

Yes,  yes,  it  is  laughter. 

What  a  relief !  We  have  never  heard 
that  sound  for  an  age. 

We  had  been  choking,  for  want  of  the 
breath  of  laughter. 

This  laughter  comes  to  us  like  the 
April  rain. 

Whose  is  it? 

Cannot  you  guess?  It  is  our  Chan- 
dra. 

What  a  marvellous  gift  of  laughter 
he  has !  It  is  like  a  waterfall.  It  dashes 
all  the  black  stones  out  of  the  path. 


104    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

It  is  like  sunlight.  It  cuts  the  mist 
to  pieces  with  its  sword. 

Now  all  danger  of  quatrain  fever  is 
over.    Let  us  get  up. 

From  this  moment,  there  will  be 
nothing  but  work  for  us.  As  the  Scrip- 
ture says, — "Everything  in  this  world 
is  fleeting;  and  he  only  lives,  who  does 
his  duty  and  achieves  fame." 

Why  are  you  quoting  that?  Are  you 
still  suffering  from  the  quatrain  fever  .^ 

What  do  you  mean  by  fame?  Does 
the  river  take  any  heed  of  its  foam? 
Fame  is  that  foam  on  life's  stream. 

[Enter  Chandra  with  a  blind  minstrel] 

Well,  Chandra,  what  makes  you  so 
glad? 

Chandra 
I  have  got  the  track  of  the  Old  Man. 
From  whom? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     105 

Chandra 
From  this  old  Minstrel. 
He  seems  to  be  blind. 

Chandra 

Yes,  that  is  why  he  has  not  got  to 
seek  the  road. 

What  do  you  say?  Shall  you  be  able 
to  lead  us  right? 

Minstrel 
Yes. 

But  how? 

Minstrel 
Because  I  can  hear  the  footsteps. 
We  also  have  ears,  but, — 

Minstrel 
I  hear  with  my  whole  being. 

Chandra 
They  all  started  up  with  fear,  when 
I  asked  about  the  Old  Man.    Only  this 


106    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Minstrel  seemed  to  have  no  fear.  I 
suppose  because  he  cannot  see,  he  is 
not  afraid. 

Minstrel 

Do  you  know  why  I  have  no  iear? 
When  the  sun  of  my  Hfe  set,  and  I  be- 
came bUnd,  the  dark  night  revealed  all 
its  lights,  and,  from  that  day  forward, 
I  have  been  no  more  afraid  of  the 
dark. 

Then  let  us  go.  The  evening  star 
is  up. 

Minstrel 

Let  me  sing,  and  walk  on  as  I  sing, 
and  you  follow  me.  I  cannot  find  my 
way,  if  I  do  not  sing. 

What  do  you  mean.'^ 

Minstrel 
My  songs  precede,  I  follow. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     107 

[He  sings.] 

Gently,  my  friend,  gently  walk  to  your 
silent  chamber. 
I  know  not  the  way,  I  have  not  the  light. 
Dark  is  my  life  and  my  world. 
I  have  only  the  sound  of  your  steps 
To  guide  me  in  this  ivilderness. 

Gently,  my  friend,  gently  walk  along  the 
dark  shore. 
Let  the  hint  of  the  way  come  in  whisper. 
Through  the  night,  in  the  April  breeze. 
I  have  only  the  scent  of  your  garland 
To  guide  me  in  this  wilderness. 


ACT  IV 

SONG-PRELUDE 

[There  enter  a  troupe  of  young  things, 
and  they  introduce  themselves  in  a 
song  as  follows:] 

The  Song  of  Returning  Youth 

Again  and  again  we  say  ^'Good  bye,'' 

To  come  back  again  and  again. 
0,  who  are  you? 
I  am  the  flower  vakul. 
And  who  are  you? 
I  am  the  flower  parul. 
And  who  are  these? 

We  are  mango  blossoms  landed  on  the 
shore  of  light. 
We  laugh  and  take  leave  when  the  time 
beckons  us. 
We  rush  into  the  arms  of  the  ever-return- 
ing. 

108 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     109 

But  ivho  are  you? 

I  am  the  flower  shimul. 

And  who  are  you? 

I  am  the  kamiiii  bunchy 
And  who  are  these? 
We  are  the  jostling  croivd  of  new  leaves. 

[Winter  is  revealed  as  Spring  and  answers 
to  tJie  questions  put  by  the  chorus  of 
young  things:] 

The  Song  of  Burdens-dropped 

Do  you  own  defeat  at  the  hand  of  youth? 

Yes. 
Have  you  met  at  last  the  ageless  Old^  who 
ever  grows  new? 
Yes. 
Have  you  come   out  of  the  loalls  that 
crumble  and  bury  those  whom  they 
shelter? 
Yes. 

[Another  group  sings.] 

Do  you  own  defeat  at  the  hands  of  life? 
Yes. 


110    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Have  you  passed  through  death  to  stand 
at  last  face  to  face  with  the  Death- 
less? 
Yes, 
Have  you  dealt  the  blow  to  the  demon 
dust,  that  swallows  your  city  Im- 
mortal? 
Yes. 

[Spring's  flowers  surround  him  and  sing.] 

The  Song  of  Fresh  Beauty 

We  waited  by  the  wayside  counting  mo- 
ments. 
Till  you  appeared  in  the  April  morn- 
ing. 
You  come  as  a  soldier-boy  winning  life 
at  death's  gate, — 
0,  the  wonder  of  it. 
We  listen  amazed  at  the  music  of  your 
young  voice. 
Your  mantle  is  blown  in  the  wind 
Like  the  fragrance  of  the  Spring. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     111 

The  white  S'pray  of  malati  flowers  in 
your  hair 
Shines  like  star-clusters. 
A  fire  hums  through  the  veil  of  your 
smile  ^ — 
0,  the  wonder  of  it 
And  who  knows  where  your  arrows  are 
hidden y  which  smite  death? 


Night 

[  The  rear  stage  is  darkened;  and  the  light 
on  the  main  stage  dimmed  to  the  heavy 
purple  blackness  of  mourning.] 

[Enter  the  Band  of  Youths.] 

Chandra  has  gone  away  again,  leav- 
ing us  behind. 

It  is  difficult  to  keep  him  still. 

We  get  our  rest  by  sitting  down,  but 
he  gets  his  by  walking  on. 

He  has  gone  across  the  river  with  the 
blind  minstrel,  in  whose  depth  of  blind- 
ness Chandra  is  seeking  the  invisible 
light. 

That  is  why  our  Leader  calls  him  the 
Diver. 

Our  life  becomes  utterly  empty,  when 
Chandra  is  away. 

112 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     113 

Do  you  feel  as  though  something  was 
in  the  air? 

The  sky  seems  to  be  looking  into  our 
face,  like  a  friend  bidding  farewell. 

This  little  stream  of  water  is  trickling 
through  the  casuarina  grove.  It  seems 
like  the  tears  of  midnight. 

We  have  never  gazed  upon  the  earth 
before  with  such  intentness. 

When  we  run  forward  at  full  speed, 
our  eyes  keep  gazing  in  front  of  us,  and 
we  see  nothing  on  either  side  of  us. 

If  things  did  not  move  on  and  van- 
ish, we  should  see  no  beauty  anywhere. 

If  youth  had  only  the  heat  of  move- 
ment, it  would  get  parched  and  with- 
ered. But  there  is  ever  the  hidden  tear, 
which  keeps  it  fresh. 

The  cry  of  the  world  is  not  only  I 
have,  but  also  I  give.  In  the  first  dawn- 
ing light   of   creation   "I   have"   was 


114    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

wedded  to  "I  give."  If  this  bond  of 
union  were  to  snap,  then  everything 
would  go  to  ruin. 

I  don't  know  where  that  blind  Min- 
strel has  landed  us  at  last. 

It  seems  as  though  these  stars  in  the 
sky  above  us  are  the  gazing  of  countless 
eyes  we  met  in  all  forgotten  ages.  It 
seems  as  if,  through  the  flowers,  there 
came  the  whisper  of  those  we  have  for- 
gotten, saying  Remember  us. 

Our  hearts  will  break,  if  we  do  not 
sing. 

[They  sing.] 

Did  you  leave  behind  you  your  love,  my 
heart; 
And  miss  peace  through  all  your  days? 
And  is  the  path  you  followed  lost  and 
forgotten, 
Making  your  return  hopeless? 
I  go  roaming  listening  to  brooks'  babble. 
To  the  rustle  of  leaves. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     115 

And  it  seems  to  me  that  I  shall  find  the 
way. 
That  reaches  the  land  of  lost  love 
Beyond  the  evening  stars. 

What  a  strange  tune  is  this,  that 
comes  out  of  the  music  of  Spring. 

It  seems  hke  the  tune  of  yellow 
leaves. 

Spring  has  stored  up  its  tears  in 
secret  for  us  all  this  while. 

It  was  afraid  we  should  not  under- 
stand it,  because  we  were  so  youthful. 

It  wanted  to  beguile  us  with  smiles. 

But  we  shall  steep  our  hearts  to- 
night in  the  sadness  of  the  other 
shore. 

Ah,  the  dear  earth!  The  beautiful 
earth!  She  wants  all  that  we  have, — 
the  touch  of  our  hands,  the  song  of  our 
hearts. 


116    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

She  wants  to  draw  out  from  us  all 
that  is  within,  hidden  even  from  our- 
selves. 

This  is  her  sorrow,  that  she  finds  out 
some  things,  only  to  know  that  she  has 
not  found  all.  She  loses,  before  she 
attains. 

Ah,  the  dear  earth!  We  shall  never 
deceive  you. 

[They  sing.] 

I  shall  crown  you  with  my  garland,  be- 
fore I  take  leave. 
You  ever  spoke  to  me  in  all  my  joys  and 
sorrows. 
And  now,  at  the  end  of  the  day,  my  own 

heart  will  break  in  speech. 
Words  came  to  me,  but  not  the  tune. 
And  the  song  that  I  never  sang  to 
you 
Remains  hidden  behind  my  tears. 

Brother,  did  you  notice  that  some- 
one seemed  to  have  passed  by? 


THE  CYCLE  OE  SPRING     117 

The  only  thing  you  feel  is  this  pass- 
ing by. 

I  felt  the  touch  of  the  mantle  of  some 
wayfarer. 

We  came  out,  to  capture  somebody, 
but  now  we  feel  the  longing  to  be  cap- 
tured ourselves. 

Ah,  here  comes  the  Minstrel.  Where 
have  you  brought  us?  The  breath  of 
the  wayfaring  world  touches  us  here, — 
the  breath  of  the  starry  sky. 

We  came  seeking  a  new  form  of  play. 
But  now  we  have  forgotten  what  play 
it  was. 

We  wanted  to  catch  the  Old  Man. 

And  everybody  said  that  he  was 
terrifying,  a  bodiless  head,  a  gaping 
mouth,  a  dragon  eager  to  swallow  the 
moon  of  the  youth  of  the  world.  But 
now  we  are  no  longer  afraid.  The 
flow^ers  go,  the  leaves  go,  the  waves  in 
the  river  go,  and  we  shall  also  follow 


118    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

them.    Ah,  bhnd  Minstrel,  strike  your 
lute  and  sing  to  us.    Who  knows,  what  . 
is  the  hour  of  the  night? 

[The  Minstrel  sings.] 

Let  me  give  my  all  to  him,  before  I  am 
asked. 
Whom  the  world  offers  its  all. 
When  I  came  to  him  for  my  gifts,  I  was 
not  afraid; 
And  I  will  not  fear,  when  I  come  to  him 
to  give  up  what  I  have. 
The    morning    accepts    his    gold    with 
songs 
The  evening  pays  him  back  the  debt  of 
gold  and  is  glad. 
The  joy  of  the  blooming  flower  comes  to 

fruit  with  shedding  of  its  leaves. 
Hasten,  my  heart,  and  spend  yourself  in 
love. 
Before  the  day  is  done. 

Minstrel,  why  is  Chandra  still  ab- 
sent.'* 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPUING     119 

Minstrel 
Don't  you  know  that  he  has  gone? 
Gone  ? — Where  ? 

Minstrel 
He  said,  I  shall  go  and  conquer  him. 

Whom? 

Minstrel 

The  One  who  is  feared  by  all.  He 
said,  "  Why  else  am  I  young?  " 

Ah,  that  was  fine. — Dada  goes  to 
read  his  quatrains  to  the  village  people, 
and  Chandra  has  disappeared, — for 
what  purpose  nobody  knows. 

Minstrel 

He  said,  "Men  have  always  been 
fighting  for  a  cause.  It  is  the  shock  of 
that,  which  ruffles  the  breeze  of  this 
Spring." 

The  shock? 


120    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Minstrel 
Yes,  the  message  that  man's  fight  is 
not  yet  over. 

Is  this  the  message  of  Spring? 

Minstrel 

Yes.  Those,  who  have  been  made 
immortal  by  death,  have  sent  their 
message  in  these  fresh  leaves  of  Spring. 
It  said, — "We  never  doubted  the  way. 
We  never  counted  the  cost:  we  rushed 
out :  we  blossomed.  If  we  had  sat  down 
to  debate,  then  where  would  be  the 
Spring.^  " 

Has  that  made  Chandra  mad.f^ 

Minstrel 
He  said, — 

[The  Minstrel  sings.] 
The    Spring   flowers    have    woven    my 
wreath  of  victory, 
The  South  wind  breathes  its  breath  of 
fire  in  my  blood. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     121 

The  voice  of  the  house-corner  ivails  in 
vain  from  behind. 
Death  stands  before  me,  ojffering  its 
crown. 
The  tempest  of  youth  siveeps  the  sky-harp 
with  its  fingers; 

My    heart    dances    in    its    wild 
rhythm. 
Gathering  and  storing  are  not  for  me, 

I  spend  and  scatter. 
And  prudence  and  comfort  bid  me  adieu 
in  despair. 

But  where  has  he  gone  to? 

Minstrel 

He  said, — *'I  cannot  keep  waiting  by 
the  wayside  any  longer.  I  must  go  and 
meet  him,  and  conquer  him." 

But  which  way  did  he  take.'^ 

Minstrel 
He  has  entered  the  cave. 


122    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

How  is  that?  It  is  so  fearfully  dark. 
Did  he,  without  making  any  enquiries — 

Minstrel 

Yes  he  went  in  to  make  enquiries 
himself. 

When  will  he  come  back? 

I  don't  believe  he  will  ever  come 
back. 

But  if  Chandra  leaves  us,  then  life  is 
not  worth  living. 

What  shall  we  say  to  our  Leader? 

The  Leader  also  will  leave  us. 

Didn't  he  leave  any  message  for  us 
before  he  disappeared? 

Minstrel 

He  said, — "Wait  for  me.     I  shall 
return." 

Return?    How  are  we  to  know  it? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     123 

Minstrel 
He  said, — "I  will  conquer,  and  then 
come  back  again." 

Then  we  shall  wait  for  him  all  night. 

But,  Minstrel,  where  have  we  got  to 
wait  for  him.'^ 

Minstrel 

Before  that  cave,  from  whence  the 
stream  of  water  comes  flowing  out. 

Which  way  did  he  go  to  get  there? 

The  darkness  there  is  like  a  dark 
sword. 

Minstrel 

He  followed  the  sound  of  the  night- 
bird's  wings. 

Why  did  you  not  go  with  him? 

Minstrel 
He  left  me  behind,  to  give  you  hope. 

When  did  he  go? 


124    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Minstrel 
In  the  first  hour  of  the  watch. 

Now  the  third  hour  has  passed,  I 
think.    The  air  is  chilly. 

I  dreamt  that  three  women,  with 
their  hair  hanging  loose, — 

Oh,  leave  off  your  dream-women.  I 
am  sick  of  your  dreams. 

Everything  appears  darkly  ominous. 
I  didn't  notice  before  the  hooting  of 
the  owl.    But  now, — 

Do  you  hear  that  dog  whining  on  the 
far  bank  of  the  river? 

It  seems  as  though  a  witch  were  rid- 
ing upon  him  and  lashing  him. 

Surely,  if  it  had  been  possible,  Chan- 
dra would  have  come  back  by  now. 

How  I  wish  this  night  were  over. 

Do  you  hear  the  woman's  cry? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     125 

Oh,  the  women,  the  women.  They 
are  ever  crying  and  weeping.  But  they 
cannot  turn  those  back,  who  must  go 
forward. 

It  is  getting  unbearable  to  sit  still 
like  this.  Men  imagine  all  sorts  of 
things,  when  they  sit  still.  Let  us  go 
also.  As  soon  as  we  are  started  on  our 
way,  fear  will  leave  us. 

But  who  will  show  us  the  way? 

There  is  the  blind  Minstrel. 

What  do  you  say.  Minstrel.'^  Can 
you  show  us  the  way.^^ 

Minstrel 
Yes. 

But  we  can  hardly  believe  you.  How 
can  you  find  out  the  path  by  simply 
singing? 

If  Chandra  never  comes  back,  you 
shall — 


126    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

We  never  knew  that  we  loved  Chan- 
dra so  intensely.  We  made  light  of 
him  all  these  days. 

When  we  are  in  the  playing  mood, 
we  become  so  intent  on  the  play,  that 
we  neglect  the  playmate. 

But,  if  he  onces  comes  back,  we 
shall  never  neglect  him  any  more. 

I  am  afraid  that  we  have  often  given 
him  pain. 

Yet  his  love  rose  above  all  that.  We 
never  knew  how  beautiful  he  was, 
when  we  could  see  him  every  day. 

[They  sing.] 

When  there  was  light  in  my  world 

You  stood  outside  my  eyes. 
Now  that  there  is  none. 

You  come  into  my  heart. 
When  there  were  dolls  for  me,  I  played; 

You  smiled  and  watched  from  the  door. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     127 

Now  that  the  dolls  have  crumbled  to  dust. 

You  come  and  sit  by  me. 
And  I  have  only  my  heart  for  my  music. 

When  my  lute-strings  have  broken. 

That  Minstrel  sits  so  still  and  silent. 
I  don't  like  it. 

He  looks  ominous, — like  the  lowering 
autunui  cloud. 

Let  us  dismiss  him. 

No,  no.  It  gives  us  heart,  when  he 
sits  there. 

Don't  you  see,  that  there  is  no  sign 
of  fear  in  his  face.'^ 

It  seems  as  if  some  messages  were 
striking  his  forehead.  His  body  ap- 
pears to  espy  someone  in  the  distance. 
There  seem  to  be  eyes  on  the  tips  of 
his  fingers. 

Simply  by  watching  him,  we  can  see 
that  someone  is  coming  through  the 
dark. 


128    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Look.  He  is  standing  up.  He  is 
turning  towards  the  East,  and  making 
his  obeisance. 

Yet  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen,  not 
even  a  streak  of  Hght. 

Why  not  ask  him,  what  it  is  that  he 
sees-f^ 

No,  don't  disturb  him. 

Do  you  know,  it  seems  to  me,  that 
the  morning  has  dawned  in  him. 

As  if  the  ferry  boat  of  Hght  had 
reached  the  shore  of  his  forehead. 

His  mind  is  still,  like  the  morning 
sky. 

The  storm  of  birds'  songs  will  burst 
out  presently. 

He  is  striking  his  lute.  His  heart  is 
singing. 

Hush.    He  is  singing. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     129 

[The  Minstrel  sings.] 

Victory  to  thee,  victory  for  ever, 

0  brave  heart. 
Victory  to  life,  to  joy,  to  love. 

To  eternal  light. 
The  night  shall  wane,  the  darkness  shall 
vanish. 
Have  faith,  brave  heart. 
Wake  up  from  sleep,  from  languor  of 
despair. 
Receive  the  light  of  new  dawn  with  a 
song. 

[A  ray  of  light  hovers  before  the  cavern.] 

Ah.    There  he  is.    Chandra.    Chan- 
dra. 

Hush.     Don't  make  any  noise.     I 
cannot  see  him  distinctly. 

Ah.     It  cannot  be  any  other  than 
Chandra. 

Oh,  what  joy! 


130    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

Chandra!    Come! 

Chandra!  How  could  you  leave  us 
for  so  long? 

Have  you  been  able  to  capture  the 
Old  Man? 

Chandra 

Yes,  I  have. 

But  we  don't  see  him. 

Chandra 
He  is  coming. 
But  what  did  you  see  in  the  cave? — 

Tell  us. 

Chandra 

No,  I  cannot  tell  you. 

Why? 

Chandra 

If  my  mind  were  a  voice,  then  I  could 
tell  you. 

But  could  you  see  him,  whom  you 
captured?  Was  he  the  Old  Man  of  the 
World? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING    131 

The  Old  Man  who  would  like  to 
drink  up  the  sea  of  youth,  in  his  in- 
satiable thirst? 

Was  it  the  One,  who  is  like  the  dark 
night,  whose  eyes  are  fixed  on  his  breast, 
whose  feet  are  turned  the  wrong  way 
round,  who  walks  backwards? 

Was  it  the  One,  who  wears  the  gar- 
land of  skulls,  and  lives  in  the  burning- 
ground  of  the  dead? 

Chandra 

I  do  not  know,  I  cannot  say.  But  he 
is  coming.    You  shall  see  him. 

Minstrel 

Yes,  I  see  him. 

[The  light  strengthens  and  gradually 
throughout  the  scene,  grows  to  a  culmi- 
nating brilliance  at  the  close.] 

Where? 

Minstrel 
Here. 


132    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

He  is  coming  out  of  the  cave. — Some- 
one is  coming  out  of  the  cave. 

How  wonderful. 

Chandra 
Why,  it  is  you! 
Our  Leader! 
Our  Leader ! 
Our  Leader! 
Where  is  the  Old  Man? 

Leader 
He  is  nowhere. 
Nowhere? 

Leader 
Yes,  nowhere. 
Then  what  is  he? 

Leader 
He  is  a  dream. 
Then  you  are  the  real? 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     133 

Leader 
Yes. 

And  we  are  the  real? 

Leader 
Yes. 

Those  who   saw   you   from  behind, 
imagined  you  in  all  kinds  of  shapes. 

We  didn't  recognize  you  through  the 
dust. 

You  seemed  old. 

And  then  you  came  out  of  the  cave, — 
and  now  you  look  like  a  boy. 

It  seems  just  as  if  we  had  seen  you 
for  the  first  time. 

Chandra 
You  are  first  every  time.     You  are 
first  over  and  over  again. 

Leader 
Chandra!     You  must  own  your  de- 


134    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

feat.      You    couldn't    catch    the    Old 

Man. 

Chandra 

Let  our  festival  begin.    The  sun  is  up. 

Minstrel,  if  you  keep  so  still,  you  will 
swoon  away.    Sing  something. 

[The  Minstrel  sings.] 
I  lose  thee,  to  find  thee  back  again  and 
again. 
My  beloved. 
Thou  leavest  me,  that  I  may  receive  thee 

all  the  more,  when  thou  returnest. 
Thou  canst  vanish  behind  the  moment* s 
screen 
Only  because  thou  art  mine  for  ever- 
more. 
My  beloved. 
When  I  go  in  search  of  thee,  my  heart 
trembles,   spreading   ripples   across 
my  love. 
Thou  smilest  through  thy  disguise  of  utter 
absence,  and  my  tears  sweeten  thy 
smile. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     135 

Do  you  hear  the  hum? 

Yes. 

They  are  not  bees,  but  the  people 
of  the  place. 

Then  Dada  must  be  near  at  hand 
with  his  quatrains. 

Dada 
Is  this  the  Leader.'^ 
Yes,  Dada. 

Dada 

Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come. 
I  must  read  my  collection  of  quat- 
rains. 

No.  No.  Not  the  whole  collection, 
but  only  one. 

Dada 
Very  well.    One  will  do. 


136     THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

The  sun  is  at  the  gate  of  the  East,  his 
drum  of  victory  sounding  in  the  sky. 

The  Night  says  I  am  blessed,  my  death 
is  bliss. 

He  receives  his  alms  of  gold,  filling  his 
wallet, — and  departs. 

That  is  to  say, — 

No.    We  don't  want  your  that  is  to 
say. 

Dada 
It  means, — 

Whatever  it  means,  we  are  deter- 
mined not  to  know  it. 

Dada 
What  makes  you  so  desperate  .^^ 
It  is  our  festival  day. 

Dada 

Ah.    Is  that  so?    Then  let  me  go  to 
all  the  neighbours, — 

No,  you  mustn't  go  there. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     137 

Dada 
But  is  there  any  need  for  me  here? 

Yes. 

Dada 
Then  my  quatrains, — 

Chandra 

We  shall  colour  your  quatrains  with 
such  a  thick  brush,  that  no  one  will 
know  whether  they  have  any  meaning 
at  all. 

And  then  you  will  be  without  any 
means. 

The  neighbourhood  will  desert  you. 

The  Watchman  will  take  you  to  be  a 
fool. 

And  the  Pundit  will  take  you  to  be  a 
blockhead. 

And  your  own  people  will  consider 
you  to  be  useless. 


138    THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING 

And  the  outside  people  will  consider 
you  queer. 

Chandra 

But  we  shall  crown  you,  Dada,  with 
a  crown  of  new  leaves. 

We  shall  put  a  garland  of  jasmine 
round  your  neck. 

And  there  will  be  no  one  else,  except 
ourselves,  who  will  know  your  true 
worth. 

The   Song   of  the  Festival  of 
Spring 

[In  which  all  the  persons  of  the  drama, 
not  excepting  Sruti-bhushan,  unite 
on  the  main  stage  in  the  dance  of 
Spring,] 

Come  and  rejoice. 

For  April  is  awake. 
Fling  yourselves  into  the  flood  of  being. 

Bursting  the  bondage  of  the  past. 


THE  CYCLE  OF  SPRING     139 

April  is  awake. 
Life's  shoreless  sea 

Is  heaving  in  the  sun  before  you. 
All  the  losses  are  lost. 

And  death  is  droivned  in  its  waves. 
Plunge  into  the  deep  without  fear. 

With  the  gladness  of  April  in  your 
heart. 


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THE  NEW  BOLPUR  EDITION  OF 
"The  Standard  Edition  of  Tagore's  Works" 

Each  volume  in  the  Bolpur  Edition,  cloth,  $/.Jo;  leather,  $2.00 

This  beautiful  new  edition,  named  after  Tagore's  famotis  school  at  Bol- 
pur, India,  is  a  fitting  celebration  of  his  recent  visit  to  America.  There  are 
ten  volumes  in  the  Bolpur  Edition,  representing  Tagore's  previously  pub- 
lished poems,  plays  and  essays,  and  his  two  new  books  just  issued,  "  Fruit 
Gathering,"  and  "  The  Hungry  Stones,  and  Other  Stories." 

The  paper,  printing  and  general  appearance  of  the  volumes  are  unusual, 
carrying  out  the  intention  of  the  publishers  to  make  these  books  the  stand- 
ard editions  of  this  distinguished  poet's  works. 

A  special  design  has  been  made  for  the  covers,  the  end  papers  and  title 
pages  are  in  colors,  and  each  volume  contains  a  photogravure  frontispiece, 
one  of  these  from  a  portrait  of  Tagore  taken  during  his  recent  visit  to  Japan. 

SIR   RABmDRANATH    TAGORE'S   'WORKS 

{Complete  in  the  Bolpur  Edition) 

FRUIT   GATHERING.      (Just  published.)    A  sequel  to  the  famous 

Gitanjali. 
THE    HUNGRY  STONES,  AND    OTHER    STORIES.   (Just 

published.) 
CHITRA  :  A  Play  in  One  Act. 
THE    CRESCENT    MOON  :  Child  Poems. 
THE    GARDENER  :   Love   Poems. 
GITANJALI  :   Religious  Poems. 

THE    KING    OF   THE    DARK    CHAMBER.     A  Play. 
SONGS    OF    KABIR. 
SADHANA  :  The  Realization  of  Life. 
THE    POST    OFFICE  :  A   Play. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

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